Week 2 - Western Russia
Day 10 - Nizhny Novgorod
Thursday, 20 August 2026
Start: Vladimir (RU) 10:00
Arrival: Nizhny Novgorod (RU) 15:00
Total: 244 km
Our "boutique" (read: family) hotel in Vladimir had asked us at what time we would leave in the morning, as they had parked us in with two additional cars. So after a stroll to the Baker Street 221b kafenya, we set off at 10 am sharp. The highway to Nizhny was a "drive 10 km, then slow down for an intersection" affair. But mostly it was newly paved and we made good speed. We only saw two gas stations that had 95 or even 92 petrol, all others were sadly empty. We would definitely not leave Nizhny before filling up to the brim.
As there were a lot of cameras at the roadside, I was trying to keep within the posted speed limit. The cars and trucks around us had no such qualms. When a juggernaut of a truck thundered past me, I'd had enough. When in Rome... I pushed the gas pedal down.
About half way between Vladimir and Nizhny, we saw a police car at the side of the road. My autopilot kicked in: I discreetly jumped on the brake and tried not to look guilty. One of the policemen waved at me to move to the side. Oh-oh. I mentally prepared a "I'm so sorry officer, I noticed the speed limit too late, of course I'll pay and it won't happen again" speech in Russian and rolled down the window.
The John-Goodman lookalike strolled over and with a large grin announced: "Hello, we're the road police", in the same tone as he might have said: "Congrats, you just won the jackpot." "Zdravstvuytje", I replied and treated him to my most candid law-obedient-citizen smile. "Car papers, please", he grinned. While Sonia rummaged through her bag for the documents, he shone a flashlight over the chaos that was our backseat. "Where are you from?" he asked. "Luxembourg", I replied and handed him the car papers and our passports. "Luxembourg? Germany?" "No!", I said, and added helpfully: "It's a country. Between Germany, France and Belgium. Very small." He nodded and studied our passports. "Sonia?" "That's my sister." I pointed at her. He nodded again. "Where are you going?" I rattled down a part of our itinerary. He seemed impressed: "Molodtzy." I beamed up at him. After some more chitchat - all in Russian, and he spoke slowly and loudly enough for me to understand! - he wished us a safe trip and sent us on our way. No fine? No mention of speed limits? I love Russian road police!
"Maybe they noticed our yellow car plates and were just curious about us", Sonia mused. Maybe. After all, I had by far not been the fastest car on the road. Maybe they just wanted to maintain a visible presence, scare the drivers into slowing down. If so, it did not seem like a winning strategy.
Nizhny Novgorod
Around 2 pm, we were rolling into Nizhny Novgorod. Or crawling, rather, stuck in a traffic jam that seemed to have spread across half the city. The "boutique" hotel we had booked yesterday was conveniently located near the centre and was supposed to have their own parking. When we arrived, all the street parking spaces in the area were occupied. Sonia jumped out and ran to the hotel, while I did my best to ignore a self-righteous lady who objected to my partly obstructing the pedestrian crossing.
After an endless five minutes, Sonia gestured for me to drive into a tiny back alley. A car half blocked the already narrow entrance. I squeezed past, a hedge and bumpers to the left, a 20 cm high sidewalk to the right. Inside the tiny court cars were piled up two rows deep. No more free spaces. You're supposed to park here, Sonia pointed at a tiny space between two bumpers. I shook my head. "No one will be able to get in and out past me." Against my better judgement, I tried to squeeze in, while another car tried to get past me. No can do, my tires scratched along the sidewalk, I was already deep into the hedge and the distance between the high bumpers was simply shorter than the length of the car. "He says you should park up there", Sonia said. That would mean blocking 5 cars! What if they wanted to get out? I shook my head, feeling slightly claustrophobic. The hotel employee kept talking at me, there was a parking space on the road, I should follow him. After ten more minutes, I had squeezed out of this nightmarish courtyard past the parked cars and the ones trying to get in and out, back onto the traffic jam. No parking space there, of course. The employee motioned for me to park in a no parking space. No can do. Over the traffic din, I shouted at Sonia to get back into the car.
"Look at Yandex Maps. Find a large hotel. We'll drive there and ask." I glanced at the map. "There. Hampton by Hilton. Sounds big enough. If they're booked out, we'll have a coffee and use their wifi to organise something. So: what way do I drive?" I drove into a roundabout. A large SUV tried to cut past me. Oh no, you won't. Not when I'm in this mood.
Fifteen minutes later, we were lying on the bed in a beautiful large room overlooking a neon sign that said: "Счастье". Maybe. Mostly, I believe, you make your own luck.
Now for some administrative duties. Yesterday, we had driven on a highway that collects tolls. Unfortunately, there are no booths on these modern tollways, but you have five days to pay online. Which we can't do, because the EU has cut itself off the Russian banking system. Apparently, there are ATM-like machines where you can pay, too. After running around Nizhny for half an hour, trying in vain to find the machine that the girl at the Hilton had pointed out, we decided to leave that problem for another day. We would deal with it in Kazan.
Now for the highlights of Nizhny Novgorod. The kremlin (meaning, the fortress) and the huge Chkalov Stairs. We found the kremlin in no time and immediately realized that the real highlight was not any building, large or small. Rather, it was the broad blue band at the foot of the fortress, majestically sparkling in the late afternoon sun. The queen of rivers, the mighty Volga.
From up here, the view was awe inspiring. The largest river I had ever seen, endless dark forests sprawling along its left bank, a vast promenade way down past the grassy slope on its right side. I couldn't take my eyes of this vast expanse of water. I could sit here forever, just quietly basking in its solemn glory.
One of the reasons for my enthusiasm to sit and contemplate the river was, admittedly, my reluctance to force my leg to do any more walking. But the Chkalov stairs beckoned and soon we were marvelling at yet another architectural wonder, a testimony to the ingeniousness and technical prowess of the Soviet people. Valery Chkalov, the first man to fly non-stop from Russia to the US via the North Pole, was crowning the top of the stairs, which lavishly spread down all the way to the promenade. The stairs were, of course, crowded with tourists. So very many steps. "I don't think I can do it", I confessed sadly. So we simply enjoyed the view from above. We were looking at the Volga! Barely 10 days ago, we'd been sitting at home, looking at online pictures of these places, and now we were actually here. I could not have been happier.